


Expectations

by sweeterthankarma



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Couple Things, F/M, Relationship Reflection, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-11 08:09:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13520130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweeterthankarma/pseuds/sweeterthankarma
Summary: Anonymous requested, "Wynonna leaves things in Dolls' apartment, office, suv."





	Expectations

Xavier Dolls expected a lot of things when he started dating Wynonna Earp. 

He expected nights where she tosses and turns and has the same nightmare over and over, the same dream that's a reality because it happened fifteen years ago and she hasn't gotten over it, never will, because you don’t get over those kinds of things no matter how much time passes, no matter how much you’re surrounded by love and people who make you better. He hurts along with her, more than he thought he would, more than he wants her to know because when she cries, she cries for all the pain she’s caused that she can’t erase, in the past and in the present. When she smiles and laughs and radiates happiness in the rare moments she gets to experience, he feels that too. He expected that as well, because he’d already been feeling the ache in his bones since the day he met her, when there was a brightness in his eyes he couldn’t explain.

He expected dragging her out of bed to go to work, make breakfast, shower, or even do something she wants to do, just because she's invested in a queen size bed and it's the greatest decision of her life, so she says.

    “Besides being with you,” she’d croon, leaning up for a kiss and letting out a high pitched noise when he gave in, but then scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bathroom. He knew this was going to happen because she’d always been late for work, anyways.

He expected anger. Frustrated tears and punching pillows and kicking trash baskets over, he'd experienced it all before simply by working with her. But it was different now, because he wasn't the cause of her anger anymore, at least not usually; instead, he was the one to soothe her, to help her think rationally and fix her breathing, ease the red behind her eyelids out of sight. 

He expected lust. He'd dreamt of her touch, of her sly smirk come to life under bed sheets and kisses so hard they burn, and he got all that he wanted and more. She was better than he could have ever guessed, more agile and lithe and smooth underneath his fingertips, something that had left him in awe the first time he was lucky enough to lay his skin on hers. He was sure he'd never been loved better, never loved anyone better, and that her sighs alone when she came undone  _ for him, from him  _ was something he couldn't live without.

He expected love. For someone who had been denied it for so long, for someone who pretended not to know what the word meant, she loved fiercely. Unabashedly, purely, simply, her love came in a way that he knew she was capable of and knew would surface in time when it was meant for the right person. He had only hoped he was the right person. He was more than happy to be correct.

The one thing he never expected was how much goddamn shit she had, and how she seemed to leave it  _ everywhere.  _

Clothes, paperwork, food, parking tickets, sometimes even money are scattered all around his hotel, car, and even in his closet. Why she left a bag of sour cream and onion potato chips behind his formal shoes, he has no idea, but he likes to think the food- and money- left behind is little presents for him that she was too shy to give him directly. It’s not like she’s had issues giving him gifts in the past- she bought him perfect presents for his birthday and even made sure that he knew she bought them herself and didn’t just assign Waverly the job, because she’s finally doing this relationship thing properly.

There’s still a sense of intimacy in their connection that’s fresh and scary and _ strong,  _ but they don’t discuss it. He knows she feels it. When he kisses her in public, in the police station or at a restaurant or outside the homestead, there’s a buzz behind it, an electricity that he knows freaks her out- it freaks him out too, if he’s being honest- because she hasn’t felt it before. He knows she’s probably afraid every day that he’ll up and leave, which is why he does everything he can to ensure her this is real, this is lasting and he’s not going anywhere. 

He doesn’t mind her stuff around, it serves as reminders of her which he always loves, even if she is sprawled on his desk messing up his paperwork more often than she’s actually doing her own paperwork. 

Sometimes it gets awkward, especially the time Nedley appears in the doorway, gaze landing directly on a ripped condom wrapper on the floor that must have fallen out of Wynonna’s pocket, because she’s the more practical one when it comes to sex and she’s  _ always  _ prepared, scoffing at Dolls when he forgets to replace the condoms he keeps in his own wallet. Nedley pretends he doesn’t see it, discussing complaints about remains of the latest supernatural creature scattered across various citizens’ lawns and leaving rather quickly. Dolls knows he was two seconds away from making a comment and then decided better of it; he’s thankful he was spared the conversation, but still mortified. He calls Wynonna out on it later, annoyed and embarrassed, but there’s no rationalizing- she thinks it was hilarious, and so do Nicole and Waverly. 

He likes it when she leaves things, actually. He especially likes it when she leaves her clothes. She always steals his shirts, sweatshirts, jackets- he’s even pretty sure she has a pair of his boxers stashed away somewhere. He thinks it’s only fair that he takes advantage of the things she leaves behind, because the nights she doesn’t sleep over it’s the next best thing to have her shirt, still lingering of her perfume, nearby. When he’s away from Purgatory, visiting family or on private Black Badge meetings, he holds her clothes to his chest when he calls her, telling her he loves her and he saw a dumb billboard he knew she’d laugh at and he’ll be home soon. 

Xavier Dolls wouldn’t change anything about dating Wynonna Earp. Even when she’s angry and stubborn and selfish and rude, she’s  _ his,  _ and he doesn’t want anyone else, couldn’t want anyone else. Everything that makes her  _ her,  _ lost items in inconvenient places and long curls that tangle in his fingers when his hand skims her back and kisses so soft they ache and everything else- all these things send a thrill to him every day like it’s the first time. If she didn’t threaten to punch him if he didn’t get her a medium coffee rather than a small, even though she’s been trying to decrease her caffeine intake- and he knows she’ll do it, although lightly and playfully and with a kiss to his cheek afterward- she wouldn’t be herself. It all feels so right and it feels like a miracle, because it’s been too long for both of them since things went right- hell, it may be a first for Wynonna. 

They’re tricky and complicated but exactly the way they should be, a perfect couple no one ever imagined until it happened and it just made sense. There’s no question, no hesitation, never any consideration of anyone else they could need in their lives because for once, both their realities are even better than their expectations.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave feedback, suggestions, or just say hi in the comments here or on my Tumblr under the same username. Thanks for reading!


End file.
